


You've Been Served

by Iocane



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Confident Hank Anderson, Innuendo, M/M, One Night Stand, bar pickup, fic based on art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 03:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17520866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iocane/pseuds/Iocane
Summary: Connor is looking for a Hank Anderson, sad sack loser.What he finds is Hank Anderson, absolutely *not* a sad sack loser.





	You've Been Served

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I love defensetrain, so I dropped a few kofis and then [this](https://twitter.com/defensetrain/status/1083057857652609025) happened.
> 
> After I stared at it for, like, a week, I had to write.
> 
> I couldn't quite replicate the pose but I tried and I hope I got confident!Hank just right!!

Big, ugly, old fatass with long hair and a shaggy beard. Connor ran the obviously bitter description over in his head. Then the addendum: his shirt would give a blind man a headache. She'd given him a list of bars as well, because 'I don't give a fuck where he lives now.' Charming woman.

He was at the fifth and final bar on the list, Jimmy's. So far, the biggest surprise had been that two of the previous establishments were overtly gay. The divorce was making more sense than the marriage.

A scan of the place from the door excluded the majority of them just by rough description. After four bars, and about two dozen hands on his ass, Connor was ready for a drink of his own. If Hank Anderson wasn't here, he was just going to go home and insist on some kind of address in the morning.

Connor parked himself on one of the bar stools and requested a gin and tonic. He sipped at it, glancing around again. One of the possibles was leaving, and the tired chorus of night Daves proved he wasn't Connor's quarry.

That left one possibility, and when another regular left, Connor finally got a good look at him. While on some levels he sort of matched the former Mrs. Anderson's description, in most ways he didn't.

The man in question  _ was _ big, in that tall, broad, robust way that certainly got Connor going. He had a beard but it looked neatly trimmed, long hair pulled back. Shaggy was not a word Connor would use to describe him. She also hadn't mentioned glasses, dark rectangular frames that drew attention to amazing blue eyes.

Realizing he'd been caught staring, Connor quickly averted his gaze and finished his drink in a few hasty swallows. He made himself stop there, using his straw to poke at the ice, keeping his eyes down. Connor could feel just how warm his face was and hoped the guy wasn't just watching him blush.

After a few mortifying moments, movement caught his eye and the guy Connor had been staring at slid off his stool. Connor's heart pounded, worried he might walk out, knowing he didn't have the nerve to stop him, not after staring. Not that this would be Hank Anderson, anyway. He was too confident, too good looking to be the sad sack of a loser he was supposed to be looking for. When he stood, Connor just realized how tall he was, even taller than Connor's own six feet. To Connor's mingled relief and dread, the man went deeper into the bar and into the restroom.

Without the stranger there to distract him, Connor felt his mind sharpen a little, and he got himself back onto the task at hand. "Excuse me." Connor got the attention of the bartender with a $20 and a request for another drink. "Do you expect to see Hank Anderson in here tonight?"

"You already got an eyeful of him, kid. He just went to the bathroom. If you hurry you can get a  _ real  _ good look."

Connor almost threw his own drink in his face to cool down as he waved off the change.  _ He _ was Hank Anderson? That tall, incredibly handsome drink of water is the supposid loser Connor had to hand divorce papers over to? "Oh, fuck me," he whispered, taking a swallow of his drink.

The bartender gave him a knowing smirk "Probably, if you ask him nicely."

Connor gave the man a sour look before giving his drink a stir and taking a swallow. A few other regulars came in and thankfully blocked the view between Connor's stool and Hank Anderson's. When he came out, he slid back into his seat, and Connor was spared having to watch him.

Connor finished his drink, knowing he'd have to do this eventually. He was pondering a third and a cab when Hank Anderson stood once more. His destination was obvious this time as he pulled on a warm looking brown leather coat.

The door jangled as a blast of cold air wafted in. Connor hopped off his stool and followed his quarry out to the parking lot. "Excuse me," he called.

"Figured you wouldn't be that far behind me." The knowing grin on Hank's face had Connor's stomach twisted.

God, how this must look. Still, Connor had to be a professional, earn his keep. Hand the papers over, then go home and jerk himself raw because that was all the action he'd be getting, he was sure of it. "Are you Hank Anderson?"

The man laughed, his whole face lighting up. "She finally got around to it, huh?" He shook his head. "Yeah, I'm Hank Anderson, call me Hank."

The fact that he seemed to know it was coming didn't make it any easier on Connor as he took the white envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it over. "You've been served."

Hank gave Connor a slow onceover as he tucked the envelope into his own jacket. "Not yet I haven't."

"Pardon?" Connor all but squeaked when Hank stepped closer, very much into Connor's personal space.

"Only question now is, are you riding or following?"

Up close like this, Connor was  _ keenly _ aware of the man's size and the sheer confidence he exuded. He considered playing harder to get, going coy or trying to pretend he didn't know exactly the way he'd been looking at Hank all night. Instead, Connor decided to grab the bull by the horns. He'd done his job, his time was his now, he reasoned as he licked his lips. "My car should be safe for a few hours," he finally said.

Hank laughed, his hand coming to the back of Connor's neck. He drew him close and growled softly into his ear "That's assuming I'm done with you in a few hours."

Connor was dead. The hand to his neck, Hank's cologne, the warmth of him that close. And those words right in his ear, Connor was amazed his legs didn't buckle.

Once they reached Hank's car, Connor's back was pressed to the passenger side door and Hank's mouth was on his, firm and soft and demanding all at once. Connor actually whined as he tried to return the kiss. He gripped Hank's biceps, feeling the muscle under his clothes and a layer of softness. Just when Connor was about to wrap his arms around him, the older man drew back with a knowing grin. "More of that when we get to my place," he promised before he stepped away.

Connor stood panting for a moment, achingly hard and his lips tasting of whiskey and Hank. Only when the car shuddered when Hank closed his door was Connor abe to force himself into motion. He was trembling just slightly when he settled into the car, pulling the door closed and bucking in. In a probably futile effort to try and settle himself, he straightened his tie and adjusted his cuffs slightly. How could one kiss make him feel so rumpled?

"Oh, I'm gonna have fun messing you up." Hank's voice was low when he noticed Connor's fussing.

That just had Connor blushing and  _ God _ did he want to be messed up. He wanted Hank to bend him over, pin him to a wall,  _ anything _ just pull his pants down and- Connor took a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts away. Not because he didn't think they were possible, but if he kept thinking like that, he'd come in his pants. Hank would probably love that. "H-how long to your place?"

"Someone's eager to get wrecked." Hank drove easily, left hand on the wheel, sitting back comfortably, right hand resting on his thigh, fingers splayed. The sleeves of his soft grey shirt rolled up to the elbows exposed his thick, lightly furred forearms.  Connor hadn't even noticed his jacket coming off.

Connor took a few breaths and tried to get some of his own back. "You're going ten miles over the speed limit, I'm not the only eager one in this car."

"Guilty as charged. By the way, you got a name or am I just calling you pretty boy all night?"

"Connor." Though the idea of Hank calling him pretty boy as he nailed him to the wall had some decided appeal.

"Connor." Hank repeated the name, his voice low, then gave a nod.

When Hank said his name like that, Connor wondered if it had been a mistake. Him just saying it had Connor's stomach twisting in pleasure. Then he imagined Hank's rich, rough voice made even more so by pleasure and Connor had to bite his lip against a whimper.

Thankfully, he didn't have long to wait, since Hank pulled into the driveway of a small house a few minutes later. Connor's hand was on the door handle when a much larger hand reached over and took hold of his tie. That grip was used to pull Connor halfway over the console and into another blistering kiss. "Not allergic to dogs are you?" Hank growled when he relinquished Connor's mouth.

It took a hot second for Connor's brain to process the question. "I like dogs," was all he could manage in response.

Hank just laughed and soon they were both climbing out of the car. The cold air actually had Connor gasping softly and it cleared his head just a bit. Enough that while Hank was unlocking, Connor was straightening his tie once again, adjusting his cuffs, all nervous habits.

Once the door was open, Hank undid some of Connor's work and grabbed his tie again. "You like doing-" He was cut off when he was pressed against the closing door. Connor recovered more quickly this time and was soon arching up against Hank, arms wrapping around him. His fingers slid over Hank's hair and broad fingers reached back, yanking at the hair tie.

Thus encouraged, Connor buried both hands in the silken hair, moaning softly. He feels hands at his waist, then his thighs and lets out a quiet yelp when he's suddenly lifted. Connor was slender but he knows he isn't light.

Hank did not seem to know that, and carried Connor easily into the bedroom.

Feeling the floor under his feet as he was lowered, Connor just kept going down to his knees. He yanked his tie off as Hank undid his jeans. Once the buckle and zip were undone, Connor pushed his hands away and leaned in, just pressing his face against Hank's crotch and inhaling his musk.

"Knew I liked you," Hank's voice was a low rumble as he slid both hands into Connor's hair, deliberately messing it up from it's tidy style.

Connor chuckled softly as he reached in, finally tugging Hank's cock free, loving the thick, velvety feel in his hand.  "Glad I'm living up to expectations." Connor licked up the underside. Catching movement, he watched Hank open and remove his shirt while he absently tongued the leaking slit.

Hank was absolutely gorgeous.  Solid, and Connor knew just how strong those arms were.  Tattoos Connor couldn't quite make out spread across his chest and down his arms.  Just enough hair dusted to slide his fingers through without feeling like he was getting fucked by a shag carpet.

Strong fingers in his hair brought Connor back to the task at hand and he wrapped his lips around the head of Hank's cock and sucked slowly.  He grinned and sucked harder at the deep groan his actions provoked. He couldn't take it all, he knew that, but he would take as much as he could.  Stroking what he wasn't licking, he took more and more in.

While he bobbed slowly on Hank's cock, Connor fumbled with his shirt, then shrugged it and his jacket off in one tangled bundle. He wrapped one hand around the base and sucked and licked at what he wasn't holding, bobbing quickly, drinking in Hank's moans.

Only when Hank nudged his shoulder and slid free of his mouth to step out of his pants did Connor stop with a whine.  He stood, his own pants coming off quickly. Stepping out of them he moved into Hank's arms. Hank slid a hand into his hair and tugged him up for a kiss.

Connor was soon on his stomach, pillows under his hips, moaning into the sheets as Hank worked a slick, thick finger into him.  His other hand squeezed and stroked Connor's ass and Connor can hear him speaking, low and rough. "Looking so good, Connor." His finger pressing deeper.  "Can't wait to get inside your pretty little ass."

"Can't wait to have you there," Connor groaned out.  The groan becomes a gasp when Hank's finger presses in deep and curls just right.  Hank chuckled low and rough as he keeps up the motions and Connor whines and tries to rock back, down, away,  _ anything _ .

"Wiggly little fucker." Hank sounded nothing short of insufferably pleased and Connor can't fault him for it.  His finger eased free and a moment later, Connor was trying to catch his breath as two thick fingers start to open him.

Hank avoided his prostate this time, just letting Connor focus on the strength and thickness of those two fingers.  He wanted more. Wanted more than just two in his ass. Without fully realizing it, his mouth started to work gently, recalling how good Hank felt and tasted in his mouth.

"You want something, Connor?" Hank asked with a low purr, his hand sweeping up Connor's back, tracing two fingers against his lips.

"Please!" Connor moved enough, twisted his head just so and drew those fingers into his mouth with a moan as his eyes half closed.

"Fuck, that's a pretty sight," Hank spread his fingers inside Connor, stretching his ass carefully.

Connor almost wanted to take the fingers out of his mouth, to beg to get fucked  _ now _ but he knew he needed more.  Hank Anderson is not a small man in any dimension and Connor was going to be utterly *wrecked* when they're through.

It's not enough, it's exactly enough, and it's almost too much all at once and Connor just moaned and rocked between the two sets of thick, warm fingers inside him. Two and two, then three and two.  Three in his ass almost burns but Hank's been so careful, taking his time that it can only feel good.

When his mouth was emptied and his ass follows, Connor let out a needy whine, pushing back against those withdrawing fingers.

"Fuck you're an eager thing, Connor," Hank chuckled as both his hands kneaded Connor's ass.

Hank took off his glasses and pulled a box of condoms from his drawer and Connor took the opportunity to roll over, drawing his legs up.   Hank didn't seem to mind one bit as he leaned down to kiss Connor again while rubbing against his entrance, then pressing in.

Connor broke the kiss to moan, gripping Hank's broad shoulders as he was filled completely and then maybe just a bit more and it felt so  **good** .  Hank braced his weight on his elbows, his bulk surrounding Connor in the best way as they kissed, letting Connor adjust.

When he was ready for Hank to move, Connor wrapped his legs around his waist and rocked up.

Thus encouraged, Hank began to rock, slow and steady at first, swapping quick, hungry kisses as he did so.  Connor kept one hand in his hair, the other braced up over his head against the headboard. He knew slow and steady wouldn't last and wanted to be ready when it got even better.

Connor didn't have to wait long and Hank was soon moving faster, driving into Connor with deep, powerful thrusts.  He couldn't help but moan at just how *good* this felt. When Hank sped up again, the headboard began to knock against the wall and the cliche of it would have had Connor laughing it if wasn't too busy struggling to breathe as the air was pounded out of his lungs over and over again.

Connor never had a hair trigger, but he still came sooner than expected with Hank riding him like this, clenching tightly, spattering over his chest and belly.  Even through his haze he could see that smug look as Hank began to slow down. "Need me to stop, Connor?" If Connor hadn't  _ just _ come, his name in that incredibly deeprichrough voice would have been enough.  

It took a few seconds to realize what Hank was asking and Connor shook his head. "Kee-keep going, please!" He rocked up.

"Fuck, Con," Hank growled before quickly resuming his deep, hard rhythm.  It didn't take him very long, at least not to Connor's slightly dazed awareness.  His hips began to stutter and Connor could feel the condom swell up as Hank came.

A few moments later, Connor had recovered enough to move.  A little hesitant, wary of rejection, he rolled towards Hank, where he'd flopped after easing out of Connor.

Hank's arm slid around him as he tucked up to his side and Connor smiled, nuzzling his shoulder.  He didn't know if they'd have anything beyond this, he didn't even really care. He was going to enjoy this, every second of it.

"You wanna stay?" Hank asked as Connor snuggled up to his side.  "I promise your car's gonna be safe," he added as he drew a hand through Connor's damp hair.

Connor chuckled softly.  "In that case, I'd love to stay," he murmured softly.  He didn't normally sleep right after sex, but sex also wasn't usually quite the workout.  That or Hank just relaxed him more than his previous partners.

Doing his best not to think too much about the future, Connor just savored the here-and-now and drifted off to sleep, wrapped up around Hank.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual if I'm missing any vital tags, please let me know!


End file.
